Amid laughter and idle chatter, Sophia watched time slip by and— from her perspective— a strange silence settle in.
She sighed.
"Alright, Dad... enough beating around the bush, because I didn't come here to talk about that."
"Huh?"
"I came here to ask you to stop worrying so much about me."
Arthur smiled, still taking her words as a joke deep down:
— …You know that's impossible, don't you?
He said, smiling.
"But you also don't need to worry about me all the time! Like I said, I'm not a child anymore—I can take care of myself."
"There's no way I can stop worrying about you both, since you and Mom are the only people I still have; it's impossible."
"…But... you don't even spend much time with us... Most of the time you're stuck here in this place. How do you think Mom feels seeing that? She never leaves her room; every time I go to see her, there she is—alone, sitting in that damn chair by the lake—and you, here, confined in this room... Did you know the last time I saw you in person was almost a month ago?"
His smile faded, and he felt as if something sharp had pierced his chest. The worst part was that, in the end, he couldn't deny those words were true. Arthur sighed:
— …You're still a child, Sophia; you don't know what you're talking about.
"No, Dad, Mom is clearly sick—I can even see it. But all these years that you've been so worried about the family's problems and have searched for ways to help her, you've even forgotten that what mattered most to her was always spending as much time with us as possible."
Breaking away from the armrest of his chair, he stood up, irritated:
— Enough, Sophia, I already told you that you're a child and don't know what you're talking about!
Arthur exclaimed, unable to look his daughter in the eyes.
"…I don't know, huh… Before I go, tell me, Dad: do you even remember how Mom and I used to celebrate our birthdays all these years? Or at least, do you remember what day our birthday is?"
"…"
The atmosphere fell into a profound silence. Arthur was left speechless—not because he didn't know the answer (after all, he had been watching her from afar in fleeting moments throughout these days) but because he knew that if he approached them in that moment of happiness, he would lose focus, as his mind was 100% devoted to the search for a cure. When he drew near them, the very last thought that would cross his mind was to retreat again and return to the isolation of that empty room—pouring over books and pacing back and forth in the Moonlit Night Hall in search of even the smallest clue or answer.
He didn't want to reveal that to Sophia, so he remained completely silent in response to her question, which would no doubt have hurt her heart. Meanwhile, Sophia waited for her father's answer, but when she saw that he had said nothing for several minutes, she got up and walked slowly toward the door.
She opened it, and before leaving, she said:
— …Like I've already said, you don't need to worry about finding a way to improve my cultivation… but please, spend more time with Mom—she really needs that.
Shortly after, Sophia left the room and closed the door. The moment she did, Arthur felt a surge of joy realizing that his little girl had truly grown up and was becoming a woman. Yet he also felt deep sorrow as he realized how little time he spent with his family—the ones most important to him—with whom he had hardly spoken during all these past years.
Even though he had seen them countless times, it was mostly when they were sleeping or from afar, which rendered any real communication virtually nonexistent. Seeing this, he realized that he had missed every milestone of his only daughter—lost birthdays, her achievements—and had grown increasingly distant from both her and his wife. Confronted with this realization, Arthur began to wonder if all those years of searching were truly worth it. He had found nothing—not a way to end or ease the illness, let alone any information about the existence of an alchemist—and yet he had persisted.
He continued his relentless search while drifting further and further away from his family…
Now, realizing that his actions were harming not only himself but also his dearly beloved ones, Arthur lifted his head. Gradually, tears began to spill from his closed eyes.
'Our ray of light has grown so much… and, my love, she really is just like you…'